


Five Firsts: Slag & Fireflight

by VtheHappyLurker



Series: Accelerated Changes [4]
Category: Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers (Marvel Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack Pairing, Drabbles, Fluff, Gen, M/M, cross-posting, lj challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VtheHappyLurker/pseuds/VtheHappyLurker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says: A series of 5 drabbles about a very cracky pairing. Because even firebreathing psychopaths need love too. Be prepared for fluffiness, mild angsting, and some creepy origami flowers.  Originally written for a challenge at the Transformers Rare Pairing Community [http://tf-rare-pairing.livejournal.com/].</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Firsts: Slag & Fireflight

**Five Firsts** **:** _**Slag/Fireflight** _

_ **1) First Impressions** _

_~ ~Earth: 2007 AD_

From the very start, Slag was not happy.

“Why dumb Aerialbots gotta stay on / _our_ / island?” he growled after Grimlock told them about his little arrangement with the gestalt fliers. “Why they not stayin’ with other Autobots on Ark?”

“Cause there Morphobots in flier-bots’ quarters again,” grumbled the T-rex wearily. “They not stay there, unless they wanna get tentacles up thrusters!”

“Then why they not go stay at human airport? Lots and lots of planes there! They blend right in!”

“Me already explain! Me made deal with Silverbolt! Him and brothers need place to stay till hanger get de-tentacled, so they gonna stay here. Got it?”

Slag sneered nastily as he got right up in his leader’s face. “And what Grimlock get out of deal?”

“Me know what Slag gonna get if he don’t shut up…” snarled Grimlock, raising a fist. “Me / _ **King**_ /, not Slag. And me say that Aerialbots stay, so they stay!”

“But we don’t / _want_ / no damn stupid planes, do we?” He turned to the rest of his brothers, certain that they’d agree with his sentiment.

“You kiddin’?! I’d love to have more fliers around!” crowed Swoop happily.

“And they all nice to Sludge,” rumbled the sauropod. “Me say Grimlock did smart thing. Let Aerialbots stay!”

“Yeah! Aerialbots stay! Aerialbots stay!” Swoop chanted, giddily dancing around his perch and was soon joined by Sludge.

Turning away in disgust, Slag looked hopefully at Snarl. “But Snarl not want more stupid fliers, right?”

The stegosaurus didn’t even look up from the game he was playing. “Eh, whatever. Let ‘em stay or kick ‘em out. I don’t care. Now quit bugging me Slag, I’m in the / _zone_ /…”

“See? It u-nah-nee-mus: Aerialbots STAY!” Grimlock puffed up smugly, glaring down at his fuming sibling. “And ‘cause they Dinobots’ guests, we all gonna be extra nice to Aerialbots. Or else…” He leaned down in Slag’s face, flexing his claws into a fist. “Understand?”

The only answer Slag gave was an inarticulate roar as he transformed and stormed out of the barracks, taking a parting shot at Swoop and Sludge with his flame breathe. He stomped down the mountainside, out onto the surrounding plains and then through the dense jungle, blazing a path of destruction as he made his way to the peace and solitude of the mud pits hidden deep within the swampiest part of the / _Dinobots’_ / island.

“Dumb fuckin’ Aerialbots…” he muttered, wading out into the bubbling mud. “Dumb fuckin’ Grimlock… ‘Me / _king_ /’ Slag’s aft! Me say Dumbtruck make him baby-sit stupid fliers! Hmph! More fuckin’ fliers! Hate fliers… Hate Grimlock… Hate Swoop… Hate Sludge… Hate Snarl… Hate universe…” He wallowed around for a bit, then sank down into the nearly boiling muck and drifted off into recharge. But his happy dreams of swimming around in the molten remains of fallen enemies were shattered by the sudden impact of a body crashing into his back.

Bellowing in rage, he tried to fling the offending thing off himself only to have it cling on tighter. Slag changed tactics slightly, charging off across the mud pit, bucking and kicking like the star attraction of a prehistoric rodeo. Finally, he managed to throw the intruder off, sending them skidding head over aft in the muck. When they spun to a stop at last, Slag transformed and walked toward the dazed flier with murder on his mind.

“Oh! Hi there!” chirped the intruder, a red and white jet. He was completely oblivious to the impending doom looming over him. “Sorry about that! I didn’t mean to crash into you, but I got so caught up in admiring all the scenery… This is the coolest place I’ve ever been! All the different landscapes… And dinosaurs! I mean, / _ **REAL**_ / dinosaurs walking around! What could be more awesome?! But I guess that’s why you guys all live here, huh? Man, you are so lucky! If I lived here, I’d spend all my time exploring and blah blah… blah-dee-dah-blah…”

While the Aerialbot chattered away happily, Slag started to draw his sword out of subspace but stopped cold when he felt that nasty stirring in the back of his mind.

“*Hello brother!*” rasped The Beast as it unfurled from whatever dark corner of the Dinobots’ minds it slept in. “*What are we doin’? We gonna smash somethin’?*”

“*Go away!*” Slag hissed in his head.

“*But I’m boooored!*” it whined back, crawling around Slag’s sub-drives like a gigantic spastic gecko. “*I wanna do stuff!*”

“*Then go bother Swoop! Me busy!*”

“*But he’s busy too! There’s all these new fliers and…ooh! What’s that?!*” Slag flinched when The Beast spliced into his sensor grid to see the Aerialbot. “*Is that one of them? He’s pretty! All sprawled out and wet… Just like one of them posters we got up on the walls back home…*”

“*/ _Shut up!_ /*” he growled, trying hard to ignore the ideas it kept feeding him but he found himself taking another look at the smaller mech. As annoying as The Beast was, it did have a point… There was an appealing suggestiveness about the way the Aerialbot was leaning back on his elbows in the mud, legs spread open and face bearing the most angelic smile. The longer he looked, the more Slag found himself reconsidering killing the little pest… It would be a real shame to just pass up an opportunity like this and it had been so damn long since the last time he’d had / _ **fun**_ / with somebody…

“*Yeah…*” purred The Beast as Slag’s optics traced over the splattered mud on gleaming white thighs then to the vibrantly red and blue codpiece. Really, it was practically a bulls-eye… “*He look really good like that… Almost askin’ for it, know what I mean? Go on… There nobody else around to see…*”

Slag thought about it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons carefully. True, they were alone and any mech with half a processor would not still be laying there as if they were begging for whatever ghastly plans were brewing in the mind of a bored, pissed-off, and now horny Dinobot. But there was a lil’, itty-bitty, teeny-tiny chance Grimlock might find out… Not that Slag was scared of his brother or anything! Of course not! He could take that over stuffed, egomaniacal metal proto-turkey any time he felt like it! He just really didn’t want to risk getting his head bitten off and chewed on just because he decided to play a bit too rough with some stupid flier.

That and a nagging little twinge in the back of Slag's mind that made him feel downright guilty just for considering half the things he'd been thinking of doing to the Aerialbot. It just seemed.../ _wrong_ /.

“*Bah!*” growled The Beast, eavesdropping on his thoughts. “*Why do you care? Anyway, they can’t prove / _nuthin_ ’/ if he can’t talk no more when your done…*”

Annoyed at both the intrusion and the unexpected pang of conscience, Slag let out a stubborn snort. “No! Me ain’t gonna do / _ **that**_ /! It not… not right…” Slag paused, then added, “Probably break him in half anyway…”

“Uh…what’s not right?” asked the Aerialbot, gazing up at him with an adorably confused look on his face.

“Nuthin’…” came the grunt and he shifted his optics to stare a point just to the left of the Aerialbot’s helm. But there was still that nagging temptation, made even worse when the little jet switched positions so he was now kneeling right at Slag’s crotch, staring up the much larger mech with the most innocent of expressions. It was the kind of sight Slag only seen at the beginning of a raunchy vidclip.

“Are you okay…eh….” Suddenly, the little jet looked embarrassed. “Oh crap! I didn’t even ask you’re name or introduce myself!” He held up a hand to Slag. “I’m Fireflight, but you can call me Flight if you’d like. And you are…?”

Ignoring the friendly gesture, he took a step back before grunting, “Me Slag.”

“Whoa… Really?” chirped Fireflight, optics widening. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Like what?” he snapped defensively.

“Like how you and the other Dinobots took down Predaking all by yourselves! Or how you knocked Octane’s head off one time and made it into an ashtray! …good thing he got better, huh? Otherwise Sandstorm’d be like soooooooooooooo pissed…They said you are so mean you even burned Primus’ in the butt!”

“Yeah… Me do all that and then some!” Slag puffed up a bit, enjoying the sudden admiration. “Cause me Slag meanest, baddest motherfucker ever! Me even bigger badass than Grimlock!”

“You mean it’s all true?!” Fireflight’s optics went even wider. “Even the ashtray?”

Slag nodded proudly. “Yep! Me keep it on a shelf in my bunk with the other trophies me take.”

“That is so cool! Can I see them?” whispered Fireflight in breathless awe.

“Uh…” Slag back away some more, suddenly beset by some rather evil ideas about what he’d love to do if left alone in a berth with his new admirer. He pulled himself together, putting on his meanest sneer and crossed his arms. “Me not sure little mech like you oughta see stuff like that. Me not wanna scare little Fireflight…”

“Oh, come on! I’m not a fledgling, you know!” Fireflight hopped up, grabbing hold of Slag’s arm excitedly. “And I don’t scare easy, either! I’ve seen worse things than a severed head out on active duty anyway! Besides, I’ve never met somebody who’s got a collection of war trophies! It sounds so cool!” He looked up at Slag, optics gleaming with youthful eagerness. “Please Slag? Please show me your trophies. Pretty please?”

Shaking off the Aerialbot, he grimaced down at his persistent new fan-boy. “Me dunno… Him Flight too young. Don’t wanna put up with cryin’ little femme-bot flier.”

“I said won’t get scared! And I don’t act like a girl! All I want is to take one little, itty-bitty look,” huffed Fireflight, then he gave the Dinobot the most pitiable puppy-eyed pout ever. “Pretty, pretty please? With whipped plasma cream and a stellar cherry on top?”

“*HELL YES!*” crowed The Beast as it peeked in on the whipped topping-fueled fantasy Slag was having.

“Hell / _no_ /!” Slag hissed, suppressing every single urge to tackle the smaller mech and have his evil way with him just to spite The Beast.

“Why not?” whimpered Fireflight sadly as he cranked the wibbling up a notch. “I know I’m not a super awesome badass like you, but I promise I won’t get scared! All I want is to take one itty-bitty little peek! Please Slag? Just this once?”

“…sure…” Slag grumbled, succumbing to the power of the wibble. “But just cause me think Flight have hot aft—er, me mean you cute—me sayin’ you…ugh… Just come on and quit makin’ that face at me!”

“Thank you!” Chirping happily, Fireflight wrapped him in a startlingly powerful hug before darting off into the swamp.

Slag stood there a moment then barked, “Fireflight! You goin’ wrong way!”

“Right! I / _totally_ / knew that…”

Growling softly, Slag marched away with the Aerialbot merrily tailing behind. The walk back wasn’t too eventful, except for the fact that Fireflight had a habit of chasing after anything that caught his attention. By the time they reached the mountain base, Slag was torn between strangling the little jet for being such an adorable annoyance and ‘facing him into ground for the exact same reason. Maybe he ought to do both at the same time… Slipping in the back entrance, Slag led his new victim—eh, his new “/ _ **friend**_ /”down the blissfully empty hallway. All he had to do was let Fireflight ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ over his trophies, then shoo the little jet out before he gave in to that urge to pin the Aerialbot down and—

“Wait a sec!”

Slag stopped and turned a glare at Fireflight. “What now? Found ‘nother butterfly?”

“No, but well… Shouldn’t we go to the washracks and clean up first?” He looked shyly down, forcing Slag’s willpower to very brink. “We’re both all muddy and I don’t wanna go and mess up your berth and stuff…”

Given that Slag’s quarters could easily be declared a hazardous waste disposal site, he almost snapped at the Aerialbot but once again was foiled by the wibble. “Fine. This way…”

Fireflight obediently followed him down a side corridor to one of the lesser used parts of the base. The washracks’ door hissed grudgingly open and Slag flicked on the light to reveal its nearly pristine state.

“Whoa!” murmured Fireflight as he stepped into the cavernous room. “This place is / _enormous_ /!”

“Eh, it ain’t that big…” grumbled Slag, going over and grabbing a hose to rinse off the dried muck. He turned back to Fireflight, who was still looking around. “What you doin’? Me thought you wanted cleaned.”

“Yeah but isn’t there any soap and brushes?”

“Why you need all that?”

Fireflight giggled as he nosed around a small set of shelves. “To clean up, Slag. You gotta use soap and stuff to get all the dirt cleaned off.” The Aerialbot bent down to search a drawer, his aft wiggling rather invitingly in the air. “And you need to use a brush or some kind of waterpick to get into all those tight, dirty little places…”

Slag leered, thinking about all the / _tight_ /, / _ **dirty**_ / places he’d like to get into, and slowly crept up on the flier while Fireflight was busily digging for cleaners. …

“Found it!” Grinning, Fireflight whirled around and almost rammed a scrubber up the Dinobot’s nose. “Whoops! Sorry about that…”

“S’lright,” growled Slag, batting the offending scrubber out of his face. He followed close behind Fireflight as he went over to the sprayer racks, watching with some amusement as the Aerialbot tried valiantly to turn the rarely used spigot. Grinning, Slag reached over and easily twisted it on, snickering at the way Flireflight yelped and pressed in close to him when the icy water finally spurted out.

“Oh, you think that's funny, huh?” With an evil smile, Fireflight filled his hand with a wad of cleaner foam and smack it right in the middle of Slag's faceplate.

Wiping the foam away from his optics, Slag flickered it back at the Aerialbot. He couldn't help but appreciate the way it splattered over Fireflight's chin and down the cables of his neck.

Giggling, Fireflight took another handful of foam and swiped it across Slag's chest plate. The Dinobot returned the gesture by grabbing the sprayer head and blasting a jet of still frigid water against one of Fireflight's wings, making him yelp again. When he tried to pull away, Slag caught hold of his waist and did it again, this time turning the sprayer so it was hitting the seam between the Aerialbot's backstrut and his wing.

“Quit it!” chirped Fireflight, playfully squirming to avoid the water. “It's too cold!”

Slag only chuckled but decided to show a little mercy and switch the sprayer to a warmer setting. Fireflight was still squirming in his grip as he ran the sprayer's stream back and forth over his wing, but now he seemed to be grinding against the Dinobot instead of trying to pull away. The Aerialbot nuzzled Slag's neck, hands slipping down his sides and gray fingers probing for hidden panel seams in the batter gold armor.

“What the hell is going on here?!” barked Silverbolt. He stormed toward them with Grimlock following close behind.

Fireflight tensed up, cursing under his breath as he quickly jerked himself out of Slag's arms.

“It's not what it looks like! We were just cleaning and totally wasn't-”

“Flight, just stop right there. I don't want to hear it,” Silverbolt grumbled as he frowned down at his brother. He grabbed hold of Fireflight's arm and quickly pulled him away from Slag. “You and I need to a have a talk. In our quarters.”

“...but...”

“That wasn't a request, Fireflight.” Glaring coldly at Slag, Silverbolt herded Fireflight out into the hall.

When they had gone, Grimlock turned to his brother.

“Me told Slag to be / _nice_ / to Aerialbots...” he snarled.

“But me was bein' nice!” Slag snapped back, frustrated in more than one sense. “Wasn't gonna do nothin' to Flight...”

“But Slag was / _ **thinking**_ / it,” sneered Grimlock, cracking his knuckles in preparation.

“What? Grimlock now mind reader or...” The sudden, nasty non-laugh rattled through Slag's subconscious right before Grimlock's fist connected with his jaw . The brawl that ended with Slag having to limp back to his berth with few less teeth and one less horn.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  


_ **2) First Apology** _

“Are you okay?” Fireflight waited, but Slag just kept fiddling with a metal plate. “Listen, about the other day... I'm... I'm sorry.”

Slag continued working with the metal, bending and folding it.

Fireflight just sighed, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “Look, I really didn't mean to get you into trouble. I just... I just didn't think Grimlock would flip out and-”

“Him didn't flip out,” huffed Slag, still folding. “Him and me beat crap of each other. Happens all the time. Me lost, but it fine.”

“I... I really sorry.”

Slag paused a moment and looked at the Aerialbot. “What Flight have to be sorry 'bout? Me told you Dinobots always fightin' all time.” He shrugged, turning back to put the finishing touches on his little project. “It not your fault.”

“But it was kind of my fault for...eh, well, the thing in the shower with...” He coughed, staring down at his feet. “Really, I'm sorry. And I understand if your mad at me.”

“Me not mad at Flight,” muttered Slag. He put down now completed object and stood up. The Dinobot stretched and grinned down at Fireflight. Suddenly, his arm dropped around the slightly smaller mech's shoulders affectionately. “Me think we oughta go outside. Me show Flight around island, chase butterflies, and we can just be dumb today.”

“Seriously?” Fireflight just stared at him for a moment, then smiled back. “You'll show me around the island? And the dinosaurs? Uh, the real ones I mean.”

“Yeah,” murmured Slag as they walked out of the common room, leaving behind an origami bird on the table.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_ **3) First Gift** _

_~ ~ Earth: 2011 A.D._

“What in the Pit is / _wrong_ / with you?” snapped Powerglide, getting back up in Fireflight's face as they all limped toward the med-bay. “Seriously, I've never met anyone as stupid as you!”

“Will you lay off?” growled Slingshot. “It's been a shitty day...”

“Yeah,” rasped Air Raid as he spat out more pine needles. “Just shut up already!”

“Why? Everything was going just fine until this moron drifted out of formation again! Is it really that hard to pay attention during a simple training run?!”

“I told you to lay off...” Slingshot's fist clenched tightly.

“And it's really not fair to blame Flight the crash,” Skydive said quietly. “I noticed you were following extremely close to him the whole time, so he really didn't have enough room to maneuver and avoid hitting you when that flock of geese appeared.”

“Bah! I was flying just fine!” snapped Powerglide. “Besides, Fireflight had plenty of room to do a roll and not break formation. Anyway, he should've started banking the moment he picked up those fucking feathered fiends! I mean, I picked them up miles off!”

“Then why the fuck didn't you tell / _us_ /?!” Slingshot barked.

“ 'Cause it ain't my job to babysit you bunch of junkers. If you dumbafts can't figure out how to do crap so simple a fledgling can do it, then maybe you ought to just give up flying and let the / _ **real**_ / jets handle things. Especially / **this** / sorry waste of scarp!” He turned and smacked Fireflight upside the helmet.

Before Slingshot and Air Raid could pounce on the minibot, Silverbolt cut in between them and jerked Powerglide up by the throat. “If you / _ever_ / touch any of my brothers again, I will break you in half. Is that clear?”

“...yes.”

“Good.” Angrily, he tossed the minibot against a door and shepherded the rest of his gestalt into the med-bay.

“Fuckin' overgrown, low-altitude skimming, hopped up son of a—” Powerglide's cursing was cut short by a massive clawed hand clamping down over his face and dragging him into the darkness of the storage closet.

~ ~ ~

Fireflight lay in his berth, staring up at the ceiling miserably. Maybe Powerglide was right: Maybe he shouldn't be allowed to fly anymore. All that ever seemed to happen was he'd end up crashing or getting lost or he'd get distracted and wander off course at the worst possible moment. Maybe he should just talk to Hoist about getting converted into a car or see if he could switch bodies with Lightspeed. Or maybe he just ought to save everybody the trouble and just deactivate himself...

A knock at his door brought Fireflight out of his adolescent funk. He was a bit shocked when he answered it to see Slag standing there with a huge grin and a large box in his hand.

“Hi Flight! Me heard you had crash, so me made you a get-well present.” He held the box out toward him proudly.

“You already heard about it....?” asked the Aerialbot. His wings dipped as he frowned and stared down at the floor.

“Don't be sad, Flight,” rumbled Slag. “Mama Ratchet still trying to catch up, so me was helping clean out store rooms and saw you and other Aerialbots come in all beat up.”

“Oh! Sorry.. I thought Powerglide...”

“Him not say nuthin'. Me Slag made sure of that!” answered the Dinobot with an unsettling chuckle.

“....you didn't have to, but thanks,” stammered Fireflight. He took the box from Slag. “And thank you very much for the present.”

“You welcome!” chirped the Dinobot. “Now, open it!”

Curious, Fireflight tugged off the lid and pulled out a bundle of gleaming metal flowers. They had shiny red and cream petals, fiber optics clustered at the centers of each which shimmered in little rainbows.

“Oh my gawd!” whispered Fireflight, face glowing in delight. “These are just / _amazing_ /! You made them?”

“Yeah...” Slag grinned so broadly he was in danger of dislocating his jaw. “Me found some bits of scrap laying around and decided to make you something nice to cheer you up. Flight like flowers, right?”

“Yes!” Cooing happily, Fireflight suddenly bear-hugged Slag tightly.

Engines rumbling with joy, Slag wrapped his arms around the Aerialbot to squeeze him tight. He ran a finger down Fireflight's cheek and noticed there was fluid leaking out of his optics. “Aw... don't cry, Flight. Me sorry if me hurt you.”

“You're not hurting me. It's just... just that was one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me!” His words were muffled a bit as he buried his face into Slag's chest plate. “This...this means a lot to me.”

“Then if Flight happy, Slag happy.”

From the far end of the hall, Jazz smiled over at the newly resurrected Prowl.

“Awww... Ain't that the sweetest thing you've ever seen?” he chuckled warmly, cradling the stun rod in crock of his arm. “Kind of shame to go and break this up. Maybe we ought to give them a few more minutes...”

The glare Prowl gave him could have easily frozen a lava flow. “One or possibly / _both_ / of them were involved in a vicious assault on a fellow Autobot, who is currently laying in the med-bay mutilated and in critical condition. This cannot wait.”

“Damn, bro. Where's your sense of romance?”

“I left it in the coffin alongside my faith in the common decency of the masses and any hope there would be some other voice of reason in the universe.” His vents hissed angrily. “Now, let us just get this over with.”

“Oh, hi Jazz! Uh...Good afternoon, Prowl, sir!” Fireflight wiggled an arm free and saluted the officers.

Slag said nothing as he let go of the Aerialbot, stepping in between him and the other two mechs.

“Flight ain't done nothin'!” he growled.

“What are you talking about?” asked Fireflight, watching in confusion as Jazz pulled out a pair of heavy-duty stasis cuffs and then a second, normal pair.

“He ain't done nothin',” repeated Slag. “He don't know / _nothin'_ / and he didn't / _see_ / nothin' either.”

“Afraid we can't take your word for that, man,” Jazz said calmly. “Gotta take you both in for questioning. Nothing personal, you know?”

“Flight didn't do / _ **nothin'**_ /.” Sparks flickered dangerously at the back of Slag's throat.

“That will be determined later.” Prowl's voice rang out crisp and professional. “From what the evidence and statements indicate, we need to speak with both of you. Then we can determine who was and was not involved.”

“Involved in / _ **what**_ /?” asked Fireflight, staring at them all completely lost.

“You didn't do nothin' wrong.” Slag gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, glaring at Prowl with barely contained rage. “And you ain't gotta answer for nothin', either!”

“Actually, given the nature of the attack and the circumstances prior to the incident, yes. Yes you do have a lot to explain, Fireflight.” Prowl turned to the Aerialbot, but kept a eye on Slag. “You are under suspicion of assaulting Powerglide or possibly of having your...companion here attack him after you two were involved in a argument.”

“The fuck?!” gasped Fireflight. He waved the bouquet angrily at Prowl. “I didn't ask anyone to do anything to that jerk ass! He's just saying shit to—”

“Powerglide currently cannot say anything. His vocalizers were crushed, likely before his wings and optics were torn out. We thought they, along with various other parts, had been destroyed. Unfortunately, it appears they've been found.”

“Great! Just hand them over to First Aid so—”

“Uh, Flight?” Jazz coughed nervously. “I'm afraid we can't do that. See, the parts were kind of...well, they've been drastically / _ **re-purposed**_ /.”

“Into what?”

Before Jazz could stop him, Prowl coldly hissed, “A surprisingly tasteful arrangement of artificial flowers.”

Fireflight stared at the bouquet in his hand in mute horror, then turned to Slag. “You...you / _didn't_ /. You / _ **wouldn't**_ /...”

The Dinobot pointedly avoid his eyes, keeping his eyes locked on Prowl. “Me go to bring, okay?” Slag rumbled, his tone suddenly pleading. “Me ripped up stupid yappy minibot. But him Flight didn't know nothin' about it!”

“It does not matter. From the evidence, it appears—”

“/ **FLIGHT DIDN'T KNOW** _ **NOTHIN'**_ **ABOUT IT!** /” roared Slag. He made as if to lunge for the Datsun, but he stopped when Fireflight grabbed him arm.

“It's... it's okay, Slag.” His voice was trembling, but he continued. “If they need to question me, then I'll go.”

Slag glanced over at Fireflight, visibly shifting from rage to shamefaced depression. “But you not do nothin' wrong!”

“I know, but if they need me to prove it, then I guess I have to...”replied the Aerialbot. He turned to Jazz, smiling weakly. “I promise we won't give you any trouble, so you don't need those cuffs...”

“No.” Prowl snapped quietly. “Procedure demands that we cuff you. Now put your hands behind your back.”

Fireflight dutifully did as he was told, wincing a little as Jazz tightened the cuffs on him while Slag growled ominously at him. When it was his turn, Slag nearly decked the Porsche came over to him but gave in when he saw the shell-shocked look on Fireflight's face. They both quietly followed Jazz down the hall as he lead them towards the brig.

Prowl stood there a moment, then picked up the bouquet and stared at it thoughtfully. He smiled dryly. “In a sick way, yes, a very sweet gesture.”

He un-subspaced an evidence bag and put the flowers into, then slowly walked after the others.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  


_ **4) First Confession** _

“Would you like a chair?” Cliffjumper asked, looking up from his armory catalog.

“No, I'm fine,” answered Fireflight as he watched the heavy blast-proofed doors expectantly.

Cliffjumper's vents hissed irritably. “You've been standing there for joors! He ain't getting out any time sooner, you know?”

“I now. But I don't want to miss it when Slag gets out.”

“Why? I mean, for Primus' sake! The guy gets you and your brothers hauled in here for beating nine different flavors of slag out of P.G., gives you an armful of body parts—”

“Flowers. They were flowers,” corrected the Aerialbot.

“Whatever. He still ripped apart another mech to make 'em—a mech who happens to be a friend of mine, you know—and yet here you are! Waiting on his fucking aft like you're his mate or something!”

Fireflight's face glowed in embarrassment. “We're just friends! And...and I just need to talk with him. That's all!”

“Friends? Oh sure... / _friends_ /....” Rolling his optics, Cliffjumper went back to ogling the finest in state-of-the-art weaponry.

Finally, after waiting for what felt like an eternity, the doors opened and Slag stamped out. His scowl changed to a pleasantly surprised grin when he saw Fireflight was there.

“What you doin' here?” he asked, giving the Aerialbot a hug.

“I thought you'd like to see me. Besides,” Fireflight's tone became serious. “There's some things we / _need_ / to talk about.”

Slag slumped a bit. “You not mad about what happened, are you Flight?”

“No, not exactly. But we really, really, / _ **really**_ / need to talk.” He glanced over at Cliffjumper, who was gawking at them. “Uh... Maybe we ought to go somewhere a bit more private for this.”

“Why?”

“We have got a whole lot of kind of personal stuff to talk about. And I think Cliffjumper just blue-screened.”

“So what? We can talk here. Me not fuckin' care what minibot think.”

Fireflight vented a low sigh. “Slag, we... We really need to talk. Now, come on.” He took the Dinobot's hand and lead him toward the hall.

Cliffjumper watched in a daze as the most violent mech he'd ever met followed after Fireflight like he was an overgrown protoform.

Fireflight only let go when they'd gotten about a few miles from the base.

“This should do it!” he said, surveying the pleasantly secluded clearing. He plopped down under an overhanging rock and patted the ground next to him. “Sit down, big guy. We're gonna be here awhile.”

“We coulda' just talked in the rec room...” muttered Slag as he sat down.

“It's always crowded in there,” Fireflight grumbled. “Besides, you've been cooped up in the brig for over two months! I thought it'd be nice to get out and enjoy the pretty weather. At least for a little bit.”

“It is kind of nice...” Slag grudgingly agreed. “But me not know why Flight want talk alone.”

“Because everyone is already...well, they're / _talking_ / about us.”

“Who?” snarled Slag. “If they sayin' anything bad about Flight...”

“No! That's not what I mean. Nobody's said anything nasty, but...” Fireflight let out another sigh. “It's just that everybody has been talking about you and me since we got back to Autobot City.”

“They'd better not be sayin' nothin' to hurt Flight...”

“Not exactly hurt, but...” He paused a moment. Before Slag could say anything, Fireflight blurted out, “Look, just what is going on between us?”

Slag blinked at him in confusion. “Huh? Uh...me thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, we are. But is that it?” When he still got a blank stare, Fireflight waved his hand around as he tried to find a better way to explain himself. “I just want to know if we're just going to be friends only or if...if there's something more to this. You know, like if you want to be... to be more than just friends?”

“You mean you wanna fuck, right?” Slag muttered.

Stammering, it took Fireflight a minute to recollect his thoughts. “Well, yeah. Yeah, I totally want to have sex with you. But it's not just that! I mean, I want to—oh boy...” He went quiet again, pulling his knees up till he could rest his chin on them. “I really don't know how to put this, but I... I really want you. Not just to screw around with, but... But I really like being around you. Not constantly, you know. That be really creepy and stuff, always clinging on to somebody but... but maybe something a bit closer than how things with us are now, you know?”

“Me... Me not think that good idea, Flight,” mumbled Slag gloomily.

“Why not?”

“You good mech,” he began quietly. “Flight nice. You...you not do.../ _stuff_ /.”

“Stuff?” Now it was Fireflight's turn to be confused.

“You know.../ _ **stuff**_ /.” He waved a claw vaguely. “You a very good mech, Flight. You...you innocent.”

“Innocent?” Suddenly, it dawned on him. Fireflight laughed, but it was oddly cynical. “Oh Primus!You seriously think I'm a virgin?”

“...yes?”

He stared at Slag in dull surprise. “You really thought I was a virgin?”

“Well, if you not, then you not had that many, right?” Slag looked over at him, his expression almost pleading now. “Right?”

“Eh...that depends...” When the Dinobot continued to look at him like a kicked bumblepuppy, Fireflight nervously went on. “It's not like I was hurting anyone. I mean, it's normal to enjoy 'facing right? It feels good, too? So...so why can't I have a bit of fun now and then? I mean, even if you don't love the other person but they want to too, it can't be bad, right? Right?”

“How many?” growled Slag. It wasn't a threat, but there was anger rumbling in his tone.

Fireflight frowned and fidgeted. “Do...do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” Slag's voice cracked abruptly. “Tell me all of them.”

“Oh Primus...” Vents rasping as he deeply inhaled, Fireflight tried to find a way to break it to him gently. “I... I really don't think this should count, 'cause I was a prisoner at the time and...and the Stunties really didn't let me say 'no'. But if you want to be technical about it, Breakdown was my first, then Dead End and then Wildrider. Drag Strip, he... he didn't want to at first, because I wasn't a femme but they started teasing him so he...he did.”

“And Motormaster, too?” asked Slag in a voice that was strangely calm.

“No. He...he gets all grossed out about sex and stuff. Says it's beneath him... And he was so pissed when he walked in and found us...” The Aerialbot paused, clearing a vent. “Anyway, the first time I ever did it and had a choice in the matter was with Thundercracker and Skywarp. I...I got captured again, but they were really nice about it. I mean, for Seekers, they were actually not all that bad. Well, okay, so Warp was a bit of a jerk but they both were very, very nice to me.”

Slag just nodded. “Too bad they dead now...”

“...right... Uh, I think the next time was with Skyfire and after him was Cosmos. Oh, and then I went out for a while with Swoop.”

“Swoop?!” rasped the Dinobot. “You and / _ **Swoop**_ /?!”

“Yeah... Don't look at me that way! That was years ago. It's totally over now. Besides, I think he's got a think for First Aid, so you don't need to get jealous.” He smiled, reaching out to squeeze Slag's hand. “Do...do you want me to keep going?”

Slag nodded. “Hafta know.”

“Eh, well....there was that time I did it with Preceptor. Umm...make that several times. Sure, the guy is a total nerd but damn is he good in the sack!” Fireflight giggled, then saw the look on Slag's face. “I... I didn't mean it like that!”

“Just keep going.”

“I really don't think I should...”

“Please,” croaked Slag. “Please. Me want to know...”

Fireflight inhaled again. “Uh... I can't really remember all of them. There were a lot of one stands and stuff that happened over the years... Like that time Moony and me went out, but that was because she was trying to get over Powerglide cheating on her with that human girl. You know, he never even told Astoria he had a girlfriend already?” He let out a little laugh, then frowned. “Look, Slag, I....you know I really care a lot about you, right? You...you mean a whole lot to me.”

“Yes...” He leaned over and wrapped an arm around Fireflight's shoulders. “But me need to know truth.”

“I don't want to hurt you...” Fireflight paused, then added, “And I don't want to get anyone else hurt, either. So... So before I tell you anything else, you have to promise me you won't...you won't do something like you did to Powerglide.”

“Me can't promise you nothin'...” Slag grumbled. “Me... me not nice dino.”

“Please! You have to promise you won't hurt anyone if I tell you this.”

Slag let out a low huff. “Me can only promise Flight won't get hurt.”

The Aerialbot bit his lip and weighed his options. Finally, he spoke.

“Alright. I... I really didn't mean for it to turn out this way...” Fireflight muttered. “But you were in the brig and I... Primus, I was so horny! Anyway, I thought if I just gave in and 'faced him, he'd leave me alone already!”

“Who? Who leave Flight alone?”

“...Sunstreaker. He...he's been following me around for weeks!” Fireflight tossed up his hands in frustration. “I just couldn't take it anymore! I waited and waited and I really, really tried to be good! You...you were in the brig and I didn't want to push you into something you didn't want to do but... But I just had to get some / _relief_ /! And Sunny was there and...and I thought he just wanted to fool around a bit but now... Now he won't leave me the fuck alone! I keep telling him I'm not interested at all, but he's acting like we're bonded or something! Probably looking for me now, come to think of it...” There were little tears of fluid forming in his optics. “...he's really starting to scare me...”

“Don't worry.” Slag got to his feet and started heading back to the city. “Lambo ain't gonna bother nobody ever again. And when me done with him, me gonna find me a couple of Stunticons...”

“Don't!” Fireflight jumped to his feet, grabbing hold of Slag. “Don't you fucking dare!”

“Don't what? Me told you me not gonna hurt you... Not gonna let nobody else gonna hurt you, either.”

“Don't... Please...”

“Sunstreaker won't leave you alone, even when you told him to,” growled Slag. “So me gonna / _ **make**_ / him.”

“And then what?! Back to the brig? Or maybe they'll just strip out your spark and put you in stasis?” Fireflight's voice was rising in hysteria. “Fuck! Why are you doing this?!”

“Because me love— Me not want hurt Flight.” Slag took a deep breath, his vent rumbling as he embraced the Aerialbot. “That why me telling Flight to stay away from me and find him a better mech than Slag and...and be happy.”

He let go and walked away, leaving Fireflight standing alone in a dazed silence.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_ **5) First Reunion** _

_~ ~ Cybertron: 2011 A.D._

Fireflight came back online, his head fuzzy with the pain dampeners and the slow reboot of minor systems. He had a brief moment of panic, wondering if he was still on the battlefield that crazy silver monster rampaging around, but it passed quickly when he noticed the drone of diagnostic machines and a funny sort of rumbling noise. Onlining his optics, Fireflight winced at the overbearing white glow but slowly his sight came back to reveal the ceiling of a med-bay room. Everything seemed normal, except for the faint ribbons of smoke rising from the right side of the berth.

Grunting with effort, he rolled over and looked down to see Slag laying there in his alt-mode. The Dinobot was battered and there were several deep slashes down his flanks as if he'd been mauled by a wild animal. Then Fireflight remember that the guy who'd attacked him had massive talons on his hands...

Slag woke up with a snort, perking up when he noticed Fireflight was awake.

“Flight! You okay?” he murmured happily, despite sounding like he was at the other end of a bad commline.

“Fine... Why are you sleeping by my bunk?”

“Me... Me wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Fireflight frowned sleepily at him. “Why do you care? I thought... I thought you...”

“Slag what?” He had gotten to his feet and leaned on the edged of the berth, staying in the triceratops form.

“I thought you didn't want to be around me.” His voice was dulled by the dampeners but there was still a deep tone of hurt in it.

“Me... Me shouldn't have done that to you.” He laid his head on Fireflight's chest. “Me thought Flight would be happier if you...you had a nice mech.”

“I don't want a nice mech!” snapped Fireflight. “I... I want / _you_ /. I love you, you fucking jerk!”

“Me love you too,” he muttered, nuzzling close. “That why me thought it be better if you had somebody else. Me...me thought it wouldn't hurt you.”

“Well, it did.” Fireflight reached out and rubbed his muzzle. “It hurt like hell.”

“Me...me sorry.”

“I'm sorry too... For that crap with Sunny...”

Slag snorted, scooting up further to rest his head on Fireflight's shoulder. “Don't worry 'bout it. Me not mad at you for that.”

“No, you should be mad,” Fireflight muttered. “I should...should've waited.”

“Me not mad. Me...me should've told you this long time ago.”

Fireflight just nodded. They lay together for a few silent moments, then the Aerialbot asked muzzily, “So, what now?”

“Well, me was thinkin' that when you get better we could go out for a few drinks and then find nice, quiet place with a really sturdy bunk...” Slag grinned, his muzzle crinkling comically as he waggled his eye-ridges.

Fireflight chuckled, kissing him on the forelock. “Sure. But first, you better get looked at by a medic. And besides...Why are you in dino mode anyway?”

Slag coughed in embarrassment. “Uh, me kind of got stuck like this. Crazy merc-bot must've busted Slag's transformation cog...”

This made Fireflight laugh again as he gave Slag another kiss. “You better go get that fixed before Ratchet finds out.”

“Right, right...” Sighing, he pulled away from Fireflight and waddled toward the door, pausing briefly to look back. “You sure you gonna be okay?”

“I'm actually feeling a whole lot better now.” Smiling at him, Fireflight settled back into the temperforam and drifted back into a medicated sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


End file.
